Cold Coffee
by guineapiggie
Summary: "I'm not punishing you," she replies, her voice so soft he can hardly hear her over the noises of the car and the traffic. "I just had to… sometimes I just need to know you'd still come for me." When he speaks, his voice sounds strange, but he doesn't have the presence of mind to fix it. "Jyn - the day I don't come for you, I'll be dead." [modern AU; ONE-SHOT; rated for language]


**Cold Coffee**

 **DISCLAIMER:** I don't own a thing, everything is with their rightful owners, this was written for the purpose of entertainment only.

 _ ***A/N***_ Written for and dedicated to JustKeepOnTheGrass whose latest fic inspired me to reach into that folder where I keep ideas too angsty to bother finishing, I will point to her the moment anyone tells me this is too much. (I made myself cry, so it might be a little much.)

* * *

.

It's just a break-up. People break up with each other all the time. Cassian has never been the kind of person who lives for a relationship – to the point where he and others joked he's married to his work – and you'd think it wouldn't make his life fall apart.

He tells himself it doesn't; he gets up in the morning, he shaves, he showers, he goes to work. He keeps his hair cut short and his clothes clean; maybe he drinks a little too much during the first months, but that happens, doesn't it?

His life is just what it was, minus her. (It's not how it was before her.) But it _doesn't_ fall apart.

It's just that he divides his memories into _before_ and _after,_ and that probably speaks to a lot more damage than he admits to.

.

.

* * *

 **[sixteen months before]**

 _Cassian wakes to the smell of coffee._

 _She is standing in the kitchen, his shirt just a little too short to pass as a dress on her, and digs through his cupboard for a second cup._

 _The sunlight streaming through the window paints patterns on the floor and on her bare feet, and makes the copper in her hair shine. The tiles are warm to the touch._

 _He leans against the doorframe and smiles, willing himself to soak up this moment, file it away for safekeeping._

 _He hasn't felt this lucky in forever, and there is still a small part of him that says it won't last – his luck, after all, has the unfortunate habit of running out very quickly._

 _"I could get used to this."_

 _She looks up and smiles. "To what?"_

 _He steps behind her, one hand straying to her hip to pull her just a little closer, and reaches for a cup from a shelf too high for her to reach._

 _"You know, coffee in the morning," he mutters against her neck._

 _(It's not what he means, at all, but he has a feeling she understands.)_

 _He's late for work that day, and couldn't care less._

.

* * *

 **[now - after]**

"Cassian, where the hell are you?"

"Kay-"

"We have a _case,_ you know we have a case, right? You know you leave me here swamped with paperwork, not that you ever were a great help with that, but you could at least _pretend_ you were trying to be of assistance –"

Cassian sighs and leans against the car window. "She didn't pick up my calls for the last three hours."

It is probably a mark of how pathetically and how _obviously_ he's not over her that even after a year and a half, his partner doesn't need to ask who the hell he's talking about.

"Cassian, I don't know how to break this to you –"

Cassian almost laughs at that, because Kay has never _ever_ had the ability to break anything to anyone, and he also never cared to find out.

"You two _broke up_. I was there. You fell asleep at your desk for five days in a row and everyone in the precinct thought you were homeless. It's not the kind of thing you forget, or so I thought – _of course she's not picking up your calls -_ "

"Kay, what if she's in trouble?" he interrupts softly.

There's a long sigh at the other end of the line. "If there is a single person in the world capable of getting herself out of the trouble she inevitably got herself into, it is Jyn Erso. She will be fine, and you won't be. _Again._ "

Cassian doesn't ask what he means, but Kay doesn't need the incentive. ( _He means well,_ Cassian tells himself firmly.)

"You will sit staring into your coffee for three hours – which, by the way, is a bloody waste of perfectly good coffee, and nobody here is prepared to stand for that any longer – for Heaven's sake, Cassian, one would think a smart man like you would eventually figure out what that woman is doing to you. And if you're enough of a masochist to not care, I'll have you know that I'm _tired._ I know how many times you've been there and left me to deal with it, I won't tell you how often because I know you don't want to hear it-"

"I don't want to hear any of this, Kay," he mutters. "Besides, Bodhi called me, that's why I tried to reach her in the first place. He's worried, too. I'm on my way, and you won't talk me out of it. I just have to see if she's okay, that's all."

"Of course she's fine. She _wants_ you to come for her. That's why she's doing this."

"What if one day that's not it, though?"

"It's been _nineteen bloody months_ , Cassian," Kay says flatly and Cassian presses his forehead to the cool glass. _Like he needs to be told._

"I just have to make sure. I promise I won't stare into cold coffee tomorrow."

There's a sullen silence, then – "I've heard that too often to believe it at this point."

"I'm glad you have so much faith in me."

"I'm trying to keep you from getting hurt," comes the very quiet response, and it's Cassian's turn to sigh. It seems unfair that their break-up would hurt so many more people than just Jyn and himself.

"I know. I'm grateful, Kay."

"Then you could listen to me."

He stares out into the darkness and grimaces. "I'm sorry. Just leave me some of that paperwork, I'll do it tomorrow."

"Yeah, right. Suit yourself, Andor," Kay huffs, then adds in a rather pleading tone: "Just don't… just please don't spend the night there, I'm not up to taking care of _that_ mess again."

Cassian is sure _he's_ not up to going through that again, either – yet also not sure he'll have the strength to prevent it. "Yes, mum."

The line clicks, and Cassian gets out of the car.

.

* * *

 **[four months before]**

 _"Cassian."_

 _He looks up from his stack of paperwork at his partner who is standing in the doorway, arms crossed and_ not amused _._

 _"She's here again."_

 _He glances at his watch – nine forty-six,_ shit _– then sighs. "Ah, sorry, that's… that's my bad."_

 _Kay doesn't stir._

 _"You gonna let her in?"_

 _"_ Under protest _," he declares. "Why can't you two keep your_ private _lives to your_ private _home?"_

 _Cassian decides not to reply to that and gives Kay a look that hopefully conveys_ chain of command, my friend _. Kay huffs in frustration, but doesn't argue further, just throws Cassian a dirty look before marching out._

 _"I can't keep you out," Cassian hears him say crabbily before a lighter set of steps approaches the door._

 _"Hey." The smile on her face looks just a little fake. She's learning all the wrong things from him. "I was just wondering where you were, you know, you said you'd be back by eight…"_

 _Before she said that, he was going to apologise for being one-hundred and eight minutes late already, and he is sorry, he_ is _… but there is something about the defensive tone in her voice that gives him pause._

 _"Why didn't you call me? You didn't have to drive all the way here."_

 _She doesn't look guilty, but then she never does. She just shrugs and asks: "So you could tell me you were just leaving, and then be another two hours late?"_

 _The fact she's acting like he has some kind of obligation to go home at a fixed hour is enough to annoy him on a good day, but there is an implication in this that is far worse._

 _"No. You wanted to see if I was really here. That's why you couldn't just call."_

 _"That's nonsense," she scoffs, and he knows it isn't._

 _There's a helpless, grim little laugh escaping his lips. "You don't trust me."_

 _"Stop making assumptions," she says, too loudly, and he shakes his head._

 _It's not even a surprise, he can't even_ blame _her, not really – Jyn has only ever been betrayed by the people she loves, her whole life._

 _Still – he'd convinced himself that this was different for her. But maybe it isn't._

 _Maybe it isn't different for him, either – maybe the truth is that he is starting to lie to her, because it makes everything so much easier; maybe he finds it harder and harder to let his duties slide to make time for her. Maybe he's looking for flaws because he needs distance, because he knows the closer they are the harder it hits when they drift away…_

 _Maybe, after all, this is no different than everything before it._

 _He hasn't expected that to be such a bitter pill to swallow._

 _"Okay. I'll stop," he says, in a quiet, neutral voice. "Go on home, I need to finish this. I don't know how long it'll take. Sorry, I should've texted you."_

 _He is met with a hard, hurt look, her green eyes dark in the dim light of the lamp, then she nods and leaves without another word._

 _The whole precinct seems to hold its breath when she's gone, waiting for the outburst that never came. Cassian takes a moment to level his breathing, runs his hands over his face and goes back to his paperwork._

 **.**

* * *

 **[now - after]**

In the end he finds her, predictably, through police radio, reporting some kind of bar brawl.

He thinks it shouldn't be so easy to whistle off the uniforms just because his badge says Detective.

She's got a nosebleed and a look in her eyes that tells him she's getting ready to _really_ hurt people – and despite that, despite everything, despite knowing that chances are she started the whole thing herself, he has to force himself not to punch the other guy and get his badge out instead.

He's very good with blood, just not with hers.

He feels exhausted just looking at the scene.

" _Freeze,_ " he orders, not very loudly, but Jyn whips around like she's been waiting to hear his voice, and his heart clenches.

 _She_ wants _you to come for her. That's why she's doing this._

It's been too long to still hurt so much.

The other guy isn't so quick, and runs into Cassian's outstretched arm instead.

"I said _stop,_ " he tells him in a tired voice and holds up his badge, then turns to the barman. "You the one who called?"

The man only looks mildly annoyed. He's probably doing this on a daily basis. "Yeah. Easier like that."

Cassian nods. "Do you wish to file a complaint?"

The barman gives a headshake. "Just get her out of here. We're all tired, right?"

 _You have no idea,_ Cassian thinks. "Sure." He returns his attention to Jyn, sighs and pulls a napkin from the stack on the counter. "Here. Come on."

She rips it out of his hand without thanks, her eyes hard but neither relieved nor angry, and remains where she is. He sighs, puts a hand between her shoulder blades – no lower than that, he's very careful about it – and shoves her forward as gently as he can.

"Don't make this difficult," he warns quietly, pushing a little more forcefully until she starts walking, the napkin pressed to her nose.

Her shoulders are extremely tense underneath his fingers, and this pathetic amount of physical touch is enough to make him feel like there is something heavy pressing on his ribcage.

"They send you to break up fights in bars now? What did you do?" she asks, a feeble attempt, and he just shakes his head and opens the passenger door.

"Get in."

This time, he doesn't have to ask twice.

"Are you taking me to the station?" she asks, hostility gone from her voice, when he starts the motor, and he scoffs.

"I should." He pulls out of the parking spot and gets in line behind the file of cars waiting for the lights to turn green. "Damn it, I _should._ I could get into a shitload of trouble for this."

She shrinks a little in her seat and stares out of the window into the night. "Kay won't rat you out."

"You shouldn't make him consider it," he says sharply and his foot comes down on the gas with a little too much force.

She takes off the napkin to check if it still bleeds, then sighs and crumples it up in her hand. "That guy insulted me. I'm not doing this on purpose."

"Yes, you are."

She turns up the heating, still at home in his car, so much so he's almost waiting for her to open up the glove compartment and complain about the collection of CDs.

"Call Bodhi," he says, eyes on the brake lights ahead.

"Why?"

"Don't play coy. _Call him._ "

She sighs. "I'll text him."

Traffic moves. " _Call. Bodhi._ "

Just this once, she does as she's told, and while she's on the phone, Cassian's eyes drift to the small spot of sky visible between the skyscrapers and realises with a heavy heart that outside the city, they could see the stars tonight.

.

* * *

 **[eleven months before]**

 _The air is starting to cool now that the sun is down, and they've opened the windows just a bit to let in the cold breeze. There is some old music playing on the radio – Jyn refused to put on another of his old CDs, telling him with a laugh he has the kind of taste in music she would expect from a woman in her late forties._

 _Her knees are pulled up against her chest and she stares out of the windshield with a serene little smile, vaguely humming along to the song._

 _He'd ask what's on her mind, except that's the kind of cheesy question they don't ask each other._

 _"This is a good night," she declares, and he smiles._

 _"What makes it a good one?"_

 _"No clouds. Pull over."_

 _He frowns. "Why?"_

 _"Because you're one of those city kids who don't know stuff about the stars," she says, still with that smile on her lips._

 _"So?" he asks, while he obediently pulls over and stops the motor._

 _"I refuse to have a boyfriend who doesn't know a single constellation," she replies with a laugh and climbs on her seat to grab her jacket from the backseat, and misses the stupid smile on his lips._

 _._

* * *

 **[now - after]**

He deliberately doesn't find a parking spot, just stops at the side of the street. (He does this for self-protection. Once the car is parked safely, it would be easy to get out of it. Climb up the stairs and follow her into her –

He can't park the car.)

She makes no move to get out, and her eyes bear into his. It's technically too dark to make out their colour, but he's stared at her for too long to not know _exactly_ how they gleam at him right now.

"Thank you for getting me out," she says, and there isn't a single honest syllable in it.

For a while, he doesn't reply at all, then he manages, though very softly: "You've gotta find a way to punish me that doesn't hurt other people. If you have to keep doing this to me, leave Bodhi and Kay out of it."

She stares at him, and _fuck,_ he wishes it was just a little lighter in this car –

"I'm not punishing you." There's something off about her voice that has nothing to do with her bleeding nose.

He scoffs, but the sound lacks all hostility. Still wax in her hands, then, by the looks of it. ( _It's been nineteen bloody months, Cassian_. _)_

"Then what are you doing?"

She gives a little shrug. "I just… I'm not doing it on purpose, I'm just angry, I…"

He nods, slowly, and there's a smile tugging on his lips that probably looks dreadful and broken. "Liar." It shouldn't sound so affectionate. "Bodhi called you this morning. You could've just picked up the phone. You knew he'd call me eventually."

 _Because after all this time he's still enough of a goddamn romantic to believe we can save each other._

"Yes," she breathes. The air conditioning whirrs.

"So you _are_ punishing me?"

For the longest time, she just sits there in her seat and stares at him, then replies, in a voice so soft he can hardly hear her over the noises of the car and the traffic:

"No, I… I just had to see… I had to make sure."

He raises a brow and waits.

"Sometimes… sometimes I just need to know you'd still come for me," she whispers, and he exhales too much air.

His throat and his heart clench, and he blinks away the stinging in his eyes.

"Jyn-"

"I know it's stupid," she says, tripping over the syllables, "I mean, after everything… but I just-"

" _Jyn._ " His voice sounds all wrong, but he doesn't have the presence of mind to fix that. "The day I don't come for you, I'll be dead."

Her frantic muttering comes to a sudden stop, and then after a moment of stunned silence she snivels and draws a few shaky breaths, and it takes all his strength to not reach out and wipe the tears off her face.

"I miss you."

He exhales, it's a little shaky but it'll do. "I know."

She fumbles with the bloody napkin for a moment. "Do you ever think we could've made it work, somehow? Do you think about that?"

 _Do you ever_ stop _thinking about that?_ "You can't pull someone out of the water if you're in there with them," he mutters, and he really does believe in that, and still, _still –_

She gives a tearful little laugh, shakes her head, flails her hand.

They're so _helpless_ in this. That might be what hurts the most.

"It just makes me angry, you know," she says suddenly, in a hard, low voice. "I've loved you. I did my best."

He presses his eyes shut. _Breathe through it. Just breathe._

He could swear he's had gunshots that hurt less than this.

(If he could just _hold_ her, that's all he's asking, just a few minutes of solace, just - )

It wouldn't ease the pain, not on the long run. It still hurts not to do it. He gets his breathing back in check long enough to murmur, in a voice that is far too soft and too tender and too honest:

"We both did, honey."

"And it wasn't enough," she whispers, and God, what would he do to never hear her voice like that again...

"It was enough. It was more than enough," he replies, a little firmer.

"You never think it's not worth _this?_ Are you never sorry you met me?"

"No." He doesn't have to think about that. His life has always been about this – about the good things he's had and the sorrow that followed in their wake. All that gets him through is knowing he wouldn't trade his memories for anything. He could never be sorry he met her, and he's not sorry it's over, not if the alternative is that he never fell asleep next to her and never saw the way her eyes crinkle when she smiles.

"No, it's worth it. It is. "

Silence spreads in the car, a heavy silence riddled with ' _if only'_ s and ' _almost_ 's and too many memories, and God, it hurts, it _hurts._

"Tell Kay I'm sorry," she mutters, and he gives a laugh that only sounds a little tearful.

"I don't think that will console him."

Jyn shrugs. "Tell him anyway." Then, hesitantly: "You can-"

"No. No, I can't."

Her eyes reflect the headlights of a passing car, and there's a shaky smile on her lips. "Alright. You're probably right."

The silence spreads, and the seconds drag by and he thinks that if this comes down to him saying the words, they'll sit here 'til kingdom come.

But Jyn is stronger than him. She always was.

"Goodnight, Cassian."

He nods, half-relieved, half heartbroken. Maybe someday, this will be easier, but right now, he thinks that'll take a long time.

"Goodnight."

She pulls her eyes away and opens the door. The cold night air is a shock, but it sobers him up a little.

Jyn climbs out, then seems to hesitate and turns back. The street light illuminates her face, and her smile looks a little more real this time.

"You're a good person, you know? I know I've called you a lot of things, but you are."

He tries for a smile.

Then the door falls shut and she walks away, doesn't turn to look back, her shoulders steady enough to imply she's not crying.

He allows a few tears to fall, until she's through the door.

 _Enough._

He will get better. He will, at some point. Pain fades.

Tonight, painful though it was, could be a little closure for them both.

He runs the back of his hand over his eyes and starts the motor. He promised Kay he won't be staring into a cup of cold coffee in the morning, and for the first time, he thinks he might actually be able to keep his promise.

.

* * *

.

 _I'm slowly getting closure_  
 _I guess it's really over  
_ _I'm finally getting better_

 _Now I'm picking up the pieces_  
 _Spending all of these years  
_ _Putting my heart back together_

.

.

* * *

Lyrics at the end from "Over You" by Daughtry (old but good).

"I have loved you. I did my best." Shamelessly stolen from The Theory of Everything, because if you can borrow from an Oscar-winning movie, you do.

* * *

 ** _Please take a moment to review, and have a look at my other works for this fandom if you'd like!_**


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